Heartlines
by TheFisherKitty
Summary: When things go sideways in Eritrea, Annie must search for Auggie... but will she find him in time? Spoilers for season 2 finale. Rated strong T. Ongoing.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything affiliated with Covert Affairs except for some DVDs and a passion for writing fanfiction! Story title is from the Florence + The Machine song of the same name (however this is NOT a songfic.)**

**Rating: T for now.**

**Characters / Pairings: Auggie/Annie (eventual, or at least that's the plan), some Auggie/Parker, and others can be expected to appear as well.**

**Author's Note: I've been watching the show from the start but haven't felt compelled to write fic for it until now... like everyone else who saw the season 2 finale! So what the heck, I'll take a crack at it too! Hope you enjoy it and I will try to warn for anything squicky that may come up. Thanks for reading and feel free to review, but no flames please! =)  
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><p><strong>Heartlines<strong>

**Prologue**

Auggie stared upward, seeing nothing. Strange that while he should be so used to it by now, in the wake of losing his last hope of regaining his sight, it felt fresh all over again. Sure, there were medical advances happening all the time, but he couldn't afford to pin his hopes on maybes and somedays anymore. He had to move on.

He wondered if that was really what he was doing with Parker. By committing to a real relationship, wasn't he stepping foot into the future with her? But only with one foot grounded in the past. When he thought of Parker he also thought of Tash, another woman who might have been more than a one-night stand if he'd had his way about it. It was something so basic, so fundamental, that most of the time he could be looking right at it, metaphorically anyway, and still deny it was true.

He knew what they looked like.

All the women since he'd lost his sight had one thing in common: he couldn't see them, and never would, and the fact that he didn't bother connecting deeply with them had more to do with his compensatory need to prove his independence. Sometimes, late at night when sleep wouldn't come, he was able to confront that, and the more he thought about it, the more he wondered if it was fair.

It wasn't. Yeah, he knew that, too. It wasn't fair to Parker and it wouldn't have been fair to Tash, either. Nor was the fact he'd shown up here in Africa, knowing that Parker wouldn't have the heart to reject him again when he'd flown halfway around the world to be with her. And what really wasn't fair to Parker, to whom he'd made love passionately only a few hours ago, was the other woman who lingered at the edges of consciousness when he had these thoughts late in the night.

Because the reality was that in spite of his blindness and the endless parade of one-nighters, one woman had somehow gotten through. He'd connected with her, and hadn't even had to take her to bed to do it. That was a truth he couldn't shake, and part of him, a not insignificant voice in his head, insisted quietly but insistently that he owed it to her and to himself to find out what that meant.

Annie.

He didn't know what she looked like; that was and would always be true, at least to the standard his life before his sight was taken had instilled in him, but he still dreamed visually and she was often there. Granted it was in the way that dreams will sometimes simply generate a nondescript person who represents someone you know, but she was represented frequently enough, especially considering how few people he had met after losing his sight found their way into his dreams. Mostly if they did, they were voices only. Not Annie; he dreamed of her voice, of course, and the way he could hear her smile when she spoke, and there was the smell of her, but sometimes, too, there was a flash of blonde hair, a shapely figure, a face that almost turned enough to see it clearly… but never quite.

That just such a dream had woken him up meant something too. This one, though, hadn't been happy. He dreamed he'd lost her on her last mission, that instead of taking down her opponent it had been Annie who had taken three bullets, Annie who lay on the ground dead, and God alone knew why Auggie was even in the field in that dream but he was, cradling her limp, lifeless form with her blood on his hands and her name a scream on his lips.

And he knew what it meant: that she needed him, that he had known she needed him when he left but he had gone anyway, and that he regretted it. The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that she hadn't been smiling at all when he gave her his car. More and more, he thought what he'd really heard was the sound of a heart breaking open. He didn't know why, exactly… but he thought, just maybe, he owed it to her to find that out, too.

But where did that leave Parker?

Before he could answer that question, the subtle sounds of the night were shattered by gunfire, and everything went straight to hell.


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything affiliated with Covert Affairs except for some DVDs and a passion for writing fanfiction! Story title is from the Florence + The Machine song of the same name (however this is NOT a songfic.)**

**Rating: T for now.**

**Characters / Pairings: Auggie/Annie (eventual, or at least that's the plan), some Auggie/Parker, and others can be expected to appear as well.**

**Author's Note: Wow! I am amazed by the positive response to the prologue! Thanks to all of you who read and reviewed. Reviews are writer fuel, so feel free to leave more! No flames though! =)  
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><p><strong>Heartlines<strong>

**Chapter 1 - _Missing_  
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The wind whipped through Annie's hair as she drove down the eastern seaboard. After Auggie had left, she had talked to Joan, not about Auggie of course, but after her first kill in the field Joan seemed inclined to give her time to process. Which really meant time to drive until she ended up somewhere, which had turned out to be a small bed and breakfast in Maine, and both try and fail to sort out everything she was feeling.

It was a cold day to be driving with the top down, but she didn't care. After all, what were convertibles for? And after two weeks of trying to sort out her feelings and coming up with nothing that made sense, she might as well feel something she could understand, even if it was numbing cold.

Numbness was a fitting sensation, in the wake of Auggie leaving. Leaving _her, _if she was honest about her feelings, even if that wasn't exactly accurate. He could hardly leave her if they had never been, well, a _thing, _but… he had left her hanging. She knew it was true as much as she felt she didn't have a right to expect anything from him. Forget about _feelings _and _relationships _for a minute; she had _killed _a man, and the one person she could talk to, as a friend, who knew what she did for a living but who also knew what it was like to do what she'd done, had listened to her tell him he was the only person she wanted to talk to, and half a breath later, it seemed like, he was telling her he was going to Africa to be with someone. Annie couldn't quite bring herself to think of it as someone _else;_ that felt too much like being abandoned, even though that was exactly what he had done when he left.

After he gave her a car.

What did that even mean? Congratulations on your first kill, here's a new set of wheels? Of course not, it was absurd, but what was she supposed to do with it? The car was great, and she understood giving it to her had meant something more to Auggie even if she didn't know what. But when what she had wanted to tell him was that _there is something between us and I want to figure out what it is, _a car felt a lot like a consolation prize. And somewhere, half a world away, that other woman had won Auggie.

And Annie didn't even know her name, because Auggie hadn't told her. She now wondered if he ever really told her anything, which was completely unfair because she told him _everything. _Well, almost. There were some things about Ben that she didn't think he knew. But of course, how could she even tell when he kept so much of himself a secret?

That was the heart of the problem, aside from the fact that he was in Africa: that dating within the Agency, or even _trying _to date, would always be like this. These were people for whom secrecy was their bread and butter. If Auggie, who she had supposed was her best friend aside from her sister, could have a girlfriend he was serious enough about to run off to Africa, then she didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of getting truth from anyone. No truth, no trust, but trust without truth was relationship currency at the CIA, and its value, she was learning, could depreciate completely at a moment's notice.

She herself was worth a very nice car, at least. If it hadn't seemed more like he was handing his old life to her for safekeeping while he ran away in the name of moving on. And what was that about, anyway? He'd been blind for _years, _and while she hoped never to know what that was like, it seemed so sudden, so artificial, for him to turn on a dime and bolt.

So maybe it wasn't what he was running toward. Maybe there was something he was running away from. That felt better, more _right _somehow, given what she knew about him, but he clearly played things so close to the vest that she had no hope of guessing what that something might have been, if it had anything to do with her, and whether there might have been anything she could have done about it. Or maybe that feeling of rightness was just her wishful thinking, and he really did run away to be with a girl.

Annie shifted, opening the car up on a long stretch of highway. Two weeks away may have done nothing to clear her head, but it had staved off that inevitable moment when she would have to go back to the DPD without Auggie.

xxxxx

There are some moments when the phone rings, and you just know it's something bad. Joan was a highly rational being, but she understood the truth of that. She would never verbalize the fact that when her phone rang that morning, her heart had caught in her throat, and she would never be able to quantify why it was so. The feeling didn't lessen when Stu in Tech Ops told her Auggie had missed a scheduled check-in, a request she had made of him while he was abroad. He'd had little choice after what had happened during his trip to Turkey… at least until such time as he was no longer attached to the CIA, a decision he had not yet made but that Joan suspected might not be long off.

She didn't bother replacing the handset in its cradle, only pressed down on the switch to terminate the call. She hesitated only an instant as she processed what she'd been told, that Stu had tried alternate contacts and had found that the Peace Corps housing where the Parker girl had been living had come under an attack of unknown motivation, that some people were missing… and that some were dead.

She dialed her husband first, updating him in clipped tones that brooked no refusals. Arthur understood Auggie was an issue on which Joan wouldn't budge, and he gave her what he could. He gave her Jai Wilcox. His was the next number she called.

"Jai, it's Joan. As of now, your office is assigned to the DPD. Report to my office in five minutes. Bring Barber with you."

Joan knew Jai was after her job, but she didn't care. She would still use him when it suited her, and this time, it did. She was more preoccupied with what she would say when she recalled Annie Walker.

xxxxx

"So, how was Maine?" Danielle asked as Annie settled at the kitchen table, tired from the road and thoughts that were more circuitous than helpful.

"It was fine," Annie muttered noncommittally.

Danielle pursed her lips. Annie had been unusually reticent to discuss certain things before she'd left, and that was taking into consideration the fact that she had a job she couldn't talk about. All Danielle knew is that Annie had gone off to see Auggie, and had returned with a car and a complete lack of a smile. That girl smiled even when she hurt, so it had to be bad. Danielle hadn't seen her like that since Sri Lanka.

And what was up with the car? It was a damn nice car. No one should frown when they had a car like that.

"Were there any… guys… I should know about?" Danielle asked, laying her bait casually.

"No. No guys. No guys ever again," Annie murmured disconsolately. Danielle had heard _that _line before, after her sister's absence overseas, after she'd been dumped by her high school boyfriend. It was Annie-code for abject misery.

"So this is about Auggie," she guessed.

Her sister looked up, lips pressed in a flat line and eyes soulfully deep with emotion. That look alone answered any more questions Danielle had. Except for the car, but that could wait.

"Oh honey," she said, heaving a sigh as her features shifted to match her sister's expression. She reached for the freezer.

"Isn't it a little early for Cherry Garcia?" Annie asked, smiling slightly.

"It's a little early for vodka, but I've got that in here, too," Danielle replied with an arched eyebrow.

There. The full-on Annie smile, at last. It was a little strained, but Danielle would take what she could get.

"The ice cream will be fine," Annie replied as she took the spoon Danielle offered.

They were just digging into the frozen treat when Annie's phone rang. Rolling her eyes, she pulled it out to look. Work. Her brow furrowed as she picked up; they knew she was on leave…

"Annie," Joan said crisply. "Are you home?"

"Yeah, I just got back today," she replied. "Joan, what's this about?"

"You're being recalled. We have a situation. Pack your bags. Travel light; supplies will be waiting for you on the ground. Jai's en route to pick you up."

"You're sending Jai? I can drive in…" Annie's heart froze as the pieces began to fall into place and the strain in Joan's voice registered. "Joan, what aren't you telling me?"

Joan took a deep breath, a _steadying _breath, it seemed to Annie, and that only deepened her sudden terror.

"It's Auggie. We've lost contact. He's missing."

xxxxx

Everything became a blur to Annie as she flew into motion automatically. She practically ran to the guest house for her go bag, rifling through her safe for the appropriate travel documents. Her sister had followed her out of concern but she didn't care. It wasn't like Danielle didn't know what she did for a living.

Danielle caught her arm in a gentle grip that snapped her back to reality with the force of an oncoming truck.

"Annie, what's wrong? I know you can't talk about it but… how long?"

"I don't know," Annie answered honestly, hesitating only a moment before she said the next thing, even though revealing it could technically cost her job… but Danielle knew who Auggie worked for, too. To hell with it. "Auggie's missing. They don't know what happened to him."

"Oh god," Danielle breathed.

A black sedan pulled up at the curb.

"That's my ride, I have to go…" Annie murmured, pawing over her bag one last time in a scattered effort to make sure she had everything.

"Annie," Danielle's voice stopped her. "You'll find him. You'll bring him home. And I'll be thinking of you every minute."

"Thank you," Annie whispered, choking back a sudden rush of emotion.

Jai stepped out of the car and approached Annie, reaching for her bag. Danielle looked him up and down, recognizing him from the time he'd come to dinner at her house.

"Wow. You too, huh?" she asked bluntly.

Jai froze, looking at her with wide eyes, then gave barely a half-nod as he recovered.

"Walker." Annie looked up at his voice. He gestured toward the car.

"It's time to go."

With a backward glance at her sister, Annie was gone, Danielle's small but encouraging wave goodbye frozen in her mind.


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything affiliated with Covert Affairs except for some DVDs and a passion for writing fanfiction! Story title is from the Florence + The Machine song of the same name (however this is NOT a songfic.)**

**Rating: T for now.**

**Characters / Pairings: Auggie/Annie (eventual, or at least that's the plan), some Auggie/Parker, and others can be expected to appear as well.**

**Author's Note: I'm doing my best to be accurate, and where I can't be accurate, at least vague enough not to be jarring. Any inaccuracies are mine. Please be gentle!  
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**I am thrilled to be getting reviews on this story! Reviews are writer fuel, so feel free to leave more! No flames though! =)  
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><p><strong>Heartlines<strong>

**Chapter 2 - _On the Ground_**

Annie waited while Jai spoke loudly into his satellite phone, covering his other ear with a hand as he conversed with Joan. The C-130 transport rumbled off down the small airstrip in the middle of nowhere; having deposited them as ordered, it was off to wherever it had originally been headed before it had been co-opted for their operation.

The trans-Atlantic trip in the C-130 had been long and loud and cold. Even with ear protection and a jacket, Annie hadn't been remotely comfortable, and that was to say nothing of the lack of bathroom facilities. But it was the most direct route to where they needed to be, and according to the copilot who had greeted them at the base, it was one of the safest aircraft to fly the skies despite its lack of accommodation for actual human beings. _The C-130 represents over fifty years of continuous service to the United States military, and has more than earned the privilege of that distinction, _the copilot told her, and she had let that fact rattle around her brain to distract her from her worry over Auggie.

When Jai suggested she take a nap, she had been sure he was joking; though after a few hours the sound of the plane's four huge prop-engines had dulled from a deafening roar to an omnipresent thrum, it was still nowhere near quiet.

Except that when sleep finally did come, her worry found an outlet and bubbled to the surface in the form of fragmented dreams in which Auggie was lost, hurt, alone, or dead, and some in which he walked away from her in that parking garage, unable to see her tears, while she was unable to tell him what she'd come to say. The first were terrible because she feared they might come into being, and the other dreams were just as bad because they had already happened, and could not be undone.

The dreams had become ghosts as she'd been jarred awake by the transport banking sharply into its descent to the landing strip, and only Jai's arm flung across her chest had kept her from flying across the cargo hold, which he'd withdrawn as soon as he was sure she'd found her grip on the cargo webbing.

"Walker!" Jai called her back to the present. "New intel from Langley. Auggie and Parker are MIA, not accounted for among the dead or the survivors. And we have a source telling us they may have been taken west into the Sudan."

"That's a lot of uncharted desert," Annie replied doubtfully. This area of the world was not her area of expertise, and while from what she knew Jai had been a little bit of everywhere, she also knew some of the areas he'd spent a lot of time and this was not one of them.

"Yeah, plenty of places for a terrorist cell to set up an encampment. But if Auggie and Parker were taken, it's for a reason, and that means there's every chance they could still be alive."

"So what's the plan?" she asked.

"We wait for our contact, who should be arriving…" Jai paused, scanning the horizon. "Right about now."

Annie looked, and sure enough, a Jeep was approaching, kicking up dust in its wake. It pulled to a stop at the edge of the landing strip, and a tall, dark figure emerged. Annie's eyes widened in recognition, and she smiled faintly.

"Annie Walker," their contact said, coming to stand before them. "And… have we met?"

"Jai Wilcox," Jai introduced himself, not bothering to hide his irritation. "Annie, I believe you have already met Eyal Lavin."

Annie looked back and forth between the two men. Alpha dogs, she realized, did not play well together...

xxxxx

Sometime during Annie's flight on the C-130, Auggie woke up in the back of a truck. At least, he drew that inference from the rumble of the engine and the smell of diesel, not to mention the fact that his face was pressed to metal that was very truck-bed-like. Probably some type of military surplus; the flapping sound of the canvas covering seemed to confirm that much. It also explained why he didn't feel the sun beating down on him even though it was definitely hot enough to be daytime.

Last he recalled, it had been night; there had been gunfire, and his first reaction had been to reach for a weapon he didn't have, an instinct drilled into him during his time in Iraq. But, of course, he didn't _have _a weapon. He was in the Peace Corps living quarters Parker inhabited, and he was definitely not a combatant any longer. Even so, he'd tried to protect Parker, but it had proved a futile effort. The last thing he recalled, hazily distant, was being struck over the head, a fact to which his splitting headache attested.

And, as he tested his wrists, he found that he was bound. Fantastic. He really hoped Stu had bothered reporting his failure to check in, and hadn't just assumed he was busy getting laid. But Stu would have tried to call, at least… right? Maybe. Crap.

The hot, dry air coupled with the grit of sand against his face meant he was probably being driven through the desert. He wasn't even sure he was in Eritrea anymore; in fact, he probably wasn't. If it was daytime, he could have been unconscious long enough to be in the Sudan by now, or maybe Egypt if his captors hadn't gone west. There were hundreds of miles of uninhabited desert where a terrorist encampment could be set up, and he was growing more certain now that was exactly who had taken him. There weren't exactly a ton of people who'd raid a peace corps facility and seize hostages. Unless, of course, this was just about _him. _

He wasn't even sure he was alone. The thought blazed through his consciousness; had they taken Parker too? Had she been left behind? Or worse, killed? The truck jostled him roughly and he rolled onto his side. Up against another warm body. Parker? He nudged, but there was no response. He chanced calling out to her.

Another crack to the head, and answering darkness, was the only reply.

xxxxx

The Jeep trundled across the desert. It was an older vehicle, but well-kept and serviceable for their purposes. Eyal cast surreptitious glances at his comrades as he drove. He was concerned about Annie. He'd seen her in the field a few times; his assessment was that she was a raw agent with good instincts, but there was something different this time. He was almost certain she had a personal stake in the mission, and he wondered what her connection was to the person they were being sent to recover, one August Anderson, US Army Captain (retired.) So the intel Eyal had been given read, but the man's career record was heavily redacted, with holes and classified stamps all over it. And then it just dead-ended in a job at the Smithsonian, of all places, a rather unlikely place for such a man to seek employment.

So he was one of them. And of particular importance to Annie Walker, by the look of her. Eyal made a note to press her for more when Jai was otherwise occupied.

As for Jai Wilcox, that man had trouble written all over him. He was clearly the senior operative sent by the CIA and had made no bones about telling Eyal exactly who was in command here. Eyal was willing to go along for the moment, if only to get the mission underway, but he would watch Jai like a hawk. Jai was dangerous, of that much he was certain. Eyal never trusted a man with an agenda. Eyal didn't trust most people.

Annie sat sideways on the backseat, knees pulled up to her chest, absorbed in her own thoughts. She looked odd to Eyal, who had never seen her in anything but casual or business-wear before, and the not-particularly-ill-fitting t-shirt and desert-camo pants were a striking difference from the casual clothing she'd been wearing at the airstrip. He smirked as he recalled how she'd insisted in changing on the far side of the Jeep, cautioning them not to look.

She looked good now, _suited to the mission, _he emphasized silently, _we're on-mission, after all_; fit for the desert, yet nondescript enough that she wouldn't be pegged outright as belonging to a specific military, which could be deadly out here. He and Jai were similarly dressed, and all were now armed and in possession of field packs that would enable them to survive where they were going. They could easily pass as mercenaries, although Annie still wasn't certified for any of the heavier weapons, which was less than ideal.

But Eyal was not yet ready to underestimate Annie Walker.

And if it came to that, he had some surprises stashed in the back of the Jeep, just in case.

xxxxx

"-gie. Auggie. _Auggie._"

A voice began to pierce the fog._ Annie, _he thought, before brushing the thought aside with the realization that it was impossible. He felt his eyelids flutter open, although his eyes felt horribly dry in such a way that the movement could actually be described as rasping.

"Parker," he murmured, his voice also raspy, his throat also dry.

"Auggie," she whimpered, terrified, and the sound of her fear made him feel sick to his stomach. "I thought… I thought maybe you wouldn't wake up."

His hands, _still bound, _he noted, pulled instinctively at what he now decided were plastic restraints, much like zip ties, as they tried to sweep in front of him so he could orient himself. Stone or something like it, floor and wall both. The air was hot and stagnant but nothing he touched was hot enough to be outdoors. If he had to guess they were in a cellar of some kind. Or a bunker.

"Underground?" he asked. He wanted to be comforting, but training had kicked in and overridden the impulse. The reality was that Parker, an untrained civilian, would likely break down if he gave her the opportunity, and they couldn't afford that. There were priorities, and he had to stay strong for both of them.

"Yeah, I think we're in some kind of…"

"Cellar, right?" he cut her off before she could find a more threatening name for it. "No windows?"

"Yeah, I think you're right. No windows. There's a door though."

"Injuries?" he asked.

"Jesus, Auggie, you're covered with blood," she replied, her voice warbling.

"I've been hit in the head a couple times, it's probably from a scalp laceration. Do you see anything still bleeding?"

A pause, and he could feel her scruitiny. "N-no, I don't think so."

"What about you?"

"No, just scrapes and bruises. And my head hurts, I guess they hit me too… Auggie, what if you have a concussion or get an infection or something?"

"We can't worry about that yet," he said calmly. "Is there water?"

He heard her shifting, searching their cell, and waited for her reply.

"Yes, there's a bucket."

"If it looks okay and smells okay, taste some."

"Yeah, okay…" Another pause. "Looks mostly fine, tastes a little like dust. And kind of dry. Like really gross filtered water. Auggie, what if it makes us sick?" she asked doubtfully.

"We'll die of dehydration if we don't drink it. The desert can suck the life out of you faster than you think," he replied. "Drink some now; I'd guess it's been at least twelve hours since we've had anything. And I don't know about you, but I don't have to pee, which isn't the best sign."

"That's a little too much information," she said, a ghost of a laugh on her voice. Good, that was where he wanted her. Calm, focused on the task at hand.

"No such thing in-" he almost said _war, _but he wasn't a soldier anymore, and she never had been. He didn't know what this was, or what else to call it. "In the present circumstances," he finally finished.

A moment later, her cupped hands found his lips and he drank. And he wished, oh God, he wished that Parker wasn't there, that it was him alone. He hoped someone had noticed they were gone, that the right connections had been made, that someone was looking for them, that the first clue they were in trouble wouldn't be a video of them being killed circulating the internet like that reporter a few years before.

And when he thought of being found, it was Annie he imagined finding him.


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything affiliated with Covert Affairs except for some DVDs and a passion for writing fanfiction! Story title is from the Florence + The Machine song of the same name (however this is NOT a songfic.)**

**Characters / Pairings: Auggie/Annie (eventual, or at least that's the plan), some Auggie/Parker, and others can be expected to appear as well.**

**Author's Note: Apologies for having to take a writing break. I had a birthday and New Years is always a pretty busy time for me for some reason. Hope there is still interest in this story! And thanks for all the reviews so far!** Reviews are writer fuel, so feel free to leave more! No flames though! =)****

**WARNING/Rating: Strong T. I initially thought to change the rating to M, but I think this is about as bad as it's going to get for now, and I want people to still be able to find it since I didn't have a chance to warn that the rating might go up. Thinking it over, I'm comfortable rating it a strong T with a caution for trigger topics: torture, beating, drugs.  
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><p><strong>Heartlines<strong>

**Chapter 3 - _Interrogation_**

Light haloed around her head, refracting from her hair in golden gleaming flashes even as the backlighting obscured her face. _Always a tease. _He had to be dreaming again; only in dreams could he see, and he remembered reading somewhere that you could only ever dream of faces you had once seen. It was his hearing that was off now, though; she was saying something, a muffled murmur that faded in and out, and he struggled to make sense of it even as he tried to see a face he knew he never would.

He wanted to tell her he couldn't hear her, but words wouldn't come, as though his throat was frozen. Which was odd, really, because he thought he could hear someone screaming, and he was pretty sure it was him.

The light started to fade to black as he came back to reality, his body humming from the arc of electricity generated by, he guessed, a car battery. Or maybe not. Times like this, guesswork was all he had to go on, what with being blind and all. He almost laughed at that, inappropriate as it was, because how many other people could think of other times like this? Granted, torture at the hands of terrorists was hardly run of the mill, even for him.

A closed fist struck him, snapping his head sideways abruptly; gone were the days when he could see a punch coming and roll with it. He tasted blood as his teeth tore the inside of his cheek. _Shit._ He must have let that laugh out after all. Between that and the lingering fuzziness in his head, he was beginning to think they may have drugged him. A person probably shouldn't feel giggly after being electrocuted, right?

"I'll ask again, who are you, and who do you work for?" a clipped voice demanded, and Auggie couldn't be bothered to place the language. For all he knew it was English; all he knew was that he understood it. That sure narrowed the field. He wasn't up to Annie's par in the language department. More pressing was the fact that he felt the pressing urge to speak. _Definitely drugged, _he thought. He had no concept of how long this had even been going on.

"What did you give me?" he said lazily, feeling a wide and undoubtedly bloody grin crawl over his face. "It's pretty good stuff."

The question was repeated, and emphasized with pain as an unknown something conducting live current brushed over his skin. Just a light touch, not enough to send him into the daze from which he'd surfaced previously but enough to inflict pain. He fought the cry that rattled up his throat. He lost.

"Formidable," the voice commented. "You are requiring a great deal of effort to break. But I can assure you that you _will _break. Never doubt that."

Auggie dug deep; he was sure he remembered a few regionally popular curses that involved the subject's parentage, and his feelings on that were a truth he had no problem with telling.

His reward was another jolt strong enough to send him back down the rabbit hole, where all he saw was Annie.

xxxxx

Annie woke with a cold shiver, the first she'd felt since her arrival in the desert. It was long into the night, and the temperature had dropped noticeably, although that didn't completely account for the chill that had run through her. Eyal had suggested she try to nap while she could, and she had listened, but every time she woke up her head and her heart were filled with the fact that Auggie was out there somewhere, certainly hurt and possibly worse, and with an accompanying dread that they might never find him.

_You cannot let yourself think like that,_ she chided herself sternly. _Auggie would never give up on you, so you can't give up on him._ She let herself think what Auggie would be doing if their places were reversed: barking into his headset to anyone he could get to listen, greasing palms and pulling favors, taking charge of a satellite or three… maybe he'd even get on a plane and try to come after her himself. The thought made her smile faintly, even though the idea of him trying to go after her in the field was horrifying. The only thing that could be worse than one of them being lost in the field was the notion that he might take such a risk for her sake, but she had smiled because she knew Joan would never let him off the ground. It wasn't funny, exactly… more reassuring that Auggie would be kept safe if it came to that. It was a comfort to her, and it allowed her to function.

This, though… it was difficult to think, to plan, with her heart beating around the knowledge that he was out there somewhere, decidedly not safe, and that at any moment it could already be too late and she wouldn't even know it. She was not a superstitious person, but every time she woke from her light sleep with that chill ghosting down her spine, she wondered if that, somehow, was the moment in question.

And then she packed it back down, and did her utmost to keep up the appearance that she was holding up. If she told herself often enough that she was okay, it might actually become true, right?

She realized soon enough what woke her; the jeep had slowed noticeably, and now Eyal pulled off the road.

"Why are we stopping?" she asked quietly, knowing that Eyal and Jai were both alert enough to the situation to hear her.

"The moon is getting too low. We need the light to watch for IED's on the road," Jai replied.

A brief flash filled her mind of when Auggie had first told her how he'd lost his sight, approaching what he thought was a dead dog. There was so much more to the story than that, but she had no doubt that his simplified explanation echoed the experiences of other soldiers in the field.

"We might see some as we get close to the encampment. Or at least where we think the encampment is," he added, glancing at Eyal.

"It will be there," Eyal replied. "Mossad keeps track of these things quite efficiently. And your own people even verified our intel via satellite, remember?"

"We verified that _something _is there. Could just be an old goatherd's hut for all we know," Jai snapped.

"It will be there," Eyal repeated confidently as he pulled the jeep to a halt in a depression that was reasonably disguised from the main road. "We should use the hours before dawn to plan our route to best avoid any patrols we may encounter. And to rest. Should I take first watch?"

Jai bristled visibly, but before he could say something more to bait Eyal, Annie interrupted.

"I will. I've already slept."

"Then it's settled," Eyal replied as he eyed Jai smugly, and set about making camp.

xxxxx

Annie stared across the desert, washed a faint blue in the fading moonlight. Once morning came, it would once again be that seemingly endless tan color of sand, sand, and more sand, but now it was still and silent and all the more eerie for that. The desert night seemed to hold secrets, like where Auggie might be and what might be happening to him. Those were secrets she hoped it could be made to give up.

The sound of sand shifting behind her made her jump, but when she turned, she found it was only Eyal.

"Jai's still asleep?" she asked, almost pointlessly, because if Jai had been awake he'd no doubt still be dogging Eyal. It was plain to Annie that Jai didn't trust the Israeli one bit. Not that Eyal was to be completely trusted; their governments were friends, which in the intelligence community essentially meant friendly rivals. But she trusted him not to kill them or betray them, and that said a lot even if he couldn't be trusted with classified secrets. Annie scoffed; the way this game was played, he probably already knew anything they might need to hide from him. Of course, that couldn't be assumed, and so the game went on.

"Yes, otherwise…" Eyal began, his lip curling in annoyed amusement.

"Yeah, I know," Annie smirked back.

They lapsed into silence for a moment before Eyal spoke again.

"So, Annie Walker, tell me: who is this August Anderson, really?"

She gave him an assessing glance. "What do you mean? You've read his file."

"I've read what Mossad was given, which is enough to tell me there are a lot of holes in his background," he replied. "If I were to guess, I would say that he was military intelligence, and now CIA. After all, why else would you be here?"

Annie said nothing, which she knew Eyal would take as confirmation.

"But…" he continued, drawing out the word and letting it hang in the air for a moment, "there is another reason you are here, isn't there?"

"Yes," she said quietly.

"You know him? He is a… friend?" Eyal guessed.

"He's my handler," she said abruptly, putting an end to the guessing game. "And a friend."

"Ah… the one you were so desperate to reach when we first worked together," Eyal replied as though she'd just said something enlightening.

Annie, however, suspected he'd already figured that out. She let his assertion stand.

"And?" Eyal prodded.

"And what?" she countered, suddenly feeling troubled that he might suspect more.

"And you have… personal feelings? Something more than friendship, I think?"

"He's like my best friend. That's all," she replied, faltering slightly.

"But that isn't all you want it to be," Eyal guessed again, rewarded when Annie's face flashed a betrayed look before shifting back to a mask of neutrality. "You don't have to answer. You have a very expressive face for a spy."

"Why do you want to know this?" she asked, her voice tinged with anger.

"I just want to know everything that could have an impact on our mission," Eyal answered lightly. "And you've been wearing your heart on your sleeve since you arrived."

"I just… I have to get him back, that's all. There are things I still have to say." Annie ducked her face, hiding a sudden welling of tears she wouldn't allow herself to shed. She would not show weakness, would _not…_

Eyal draped an arm across her shoulders, slowly, giving her a chance to balk. When she didn't, he pulled her against his side.

"Let it out now, Annie. Before we meet resistance. Confront your fear and find a place for it. Tomorrow, you will need to focus. You will do him no good if you falter and get yourself killed."

It was not his voice or his words but the way he said them that reminded her of Auggie, and she broke. She cried silently, heaving breaths muffled in Eyal's shirt. It was the last and only time she would allow herself to break down; when first light came, she would stop allowing her fears to rule her.

xxxxx

Auggie shivered in spite of the heat. He was sweating, disoriented, and flailed wildly for a moment trying to get his bearings. A hand grabbed his arm, not to restrain him but to let him know someone was there. He held onto that and let it drag him back to reality.

"Where am I?" he murmured, though it came out in a slurring mumble.

"Auggie? Oh, thank god," the person replied desperately, and he recognized her voice through the fog clouding his mind.

Parker. So he was back here in their cell. Heat meant it was probably daytime again, sweating and shivering meant he probably had a fever. As to how he'd gotten back here, it was all so hazy, so vague. The last thing he remembered was the torture, and then Annie. He had thought Annie was here, but he must have dreamed it…

"Auggie, what… what did they do to you?"

He tried to sit up, ignoring Parker's protests, and a wave of nausea crashed over him. He retched and vomited what little was in him, then heaved gasping breaths as he let Parker push him until he was leaning against the wall.

"God, just… sit still, please?" Parker pleaded. "Do you remember anything?"

He remembered pain, and he remembered thinking Annie was standing over him. He remembered hoping he'd been found and wondering if he was dead.

"Remember some," he muttered. "Think they drugged me. And everything hurts."

"After they brought you back, you had a seizure…" Parker said hesitantly, stumbling over the words. "I think you bit your cheek, there's a lot of blood…"

"That was from before," he replied. He remembered that part, at least, and some of what happened around it.

"Oh god…" Parker moaned. "They tortured you… we're going to die, aren't we?"

"Can't start thinking like that," he said firmly, struggling to speak clearly through the muffled feeling the drugs and the seizure had left in their wake. "We have to hold on. Someone will come looking for us."

"You mean someone like Annie?" she asked.

He froze. How did Parker…

"You said her name when you were coming around," Parker explained. "It isn't the first time either. I wasn't going to say anything before because the situation was bad enough, but now… is there really someone looking for us?"

He reached for her hand where it rested on his arm and clasped it tightly.

"We will be rescued. We just have to hold on," he replied. He felt her shake, then sob as she slumped in relief. She believed him… now if only he could convince himself.

Just then, the door barring their cell swung open with a bang, and with angry shouts from their guards Parker was snatched from his side and dragged from the cell, crying out in fear. Auggie launched himself after her but was knocked roughly to the ground.

As the door slammed shut, cutting off Parker's terrified screams, he pounded his fist on the floor. Parker was going to be interrogated, and there was nothing he could do about it. He could only hope she would be brought back alive.


End file.
